


4 Times Blaine Almost Told Kurt He Loved Him, 1 Time He Actually Did

by emmawantsawarbler



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawantsawarbler/pseuds/emmawantsawarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four times that Blaine is presented with the chance to tell Kurt he loves him, but he doesn't think any of them fit better than when he finally does. And he doesn't regret a thing. (The last one aligns with canon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	4 Times Blaine Almost Told Kurt He Loved Him, 1 Time He Actually Did

1\. It’s raining, and Kurt is stunning. He’s holding a scarlet umbrella, twirling about on the pavement, flashes of color in a world of grey. It’s stunning, and Blaine doesn’t realize he’s stopped breathing until he’s gasping for breath as cold water pelts him, bringing him rudely back into reality. Kurt’s smiling at him, glasz eyes shining and holding him captive. Blaine’s smiling back and before he knows it, there’s a strong yet delicate hand reaching out and taking his, and then there’s Kurt, standing way too close, but yet not close enough. Blaine can smell the cologne he got the boy for Christmas on his skin, and he feels like he’s about to faint. Everything about the moment is so picturesque and perfect, and as Kurt and him whirl to a stop, hearts pounding in synchronization, wide grins on both of their faces, they lock eyes, and Blaine feels the words take place on the tip of his tongue. I love you. And he feels his smile falter and drop, and he sees Kurt’s disappear too, and then oh no, because he’s just messed up everything, and he feels himself rush to correct it all. He’s taking Kurt’s face in his hands, umbrella having been dropped long ago, placing kiss after kiss to the boy’s face, muttering a, “you’re beautiful,” in between each one, but he knows that Kurt won’t let this moment go forgotten. 

2\. The Sun is shining, high and bright in the sky. It’s nothing compared to the beauty in Kurt’s eyes though. They’re sitting together on a blanket in the park, and Blaine is feeding Kurt grapes, much to the other’s amusement. He remembers when he first pulled out the bowl and proceeded to feed the other teen, how Kurt had quipped, “Romantic,” before taking the fruit into his mouth. Blaine narrowly avoids getting his finger bitten after attempting to sneak a Cheeto past the boy’s lips. He then avoids getting beaten to death with the now empty picnic basket because, “Really, Blaine? Cheetos? Do you want me to die before I turn 30? Get fat in less than two months? Really?” He knows he should be a bit annoyed at his boyfriend’s antics. No one should be so strict about their diet, but he can’t get mad. Not really. And Kurt’s figure is fantastic; Blaine can’t blame him for watching out. It gets a bit ridiculous sometimes. He shakes his head fondly as he remembers finding Kurt about to throw out some Triple-Fudge Poptarts he found in Blaine’s locker during lunch. When Kurt notices Blaine’s lack of attention, he tilts his head in the cutest manner, and a single strand of hair falls in his face, and the light of the Sun is causing a glow to surround him like a halo, and Blaine’s breath leaves him because there are those words again. He knows he should wait, but they urge is so strong. He opens his mouth, and he prepares himself for the words, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect,” and then Kurt’s lips are on his, and he knows he should be grateful that what he says is just as good as the actual words, but he can’t help but degrade himself. But soon Kurt is pulling away to breathe before moving right back in, and all coherent thought leaves Blaine’s mind. 

3\. The smell of coffee and vanilla is heavy around them as they settle into a secluded corner of the Lima Bean. Kurt’s drinking his usual grande nonfat mocha, and they’re waiting for Blaine’s medium drip because there was apparently some sort of mix-up in stocking that morning. With a sympathetic smile, Kurt offers Blaine some of his drink, but Blaine politely declines, giggling because surely they’re past this awkward, blushing, can-we-really-share-drinks-now? stage, but clearly they’re not. At Kurt’s look of adorable confusion, Blaine shakes his head and extends a hand, wiggling his fingers slightly. Kurt rolls his eyes, but hands Blaine his drink nonetheless, smiling and laughing behind a pale hand when Blaine winces at the heat. “That really hurt,” Blaine whines as he sets the cup down on the table. He attempts to stretch his legs out some more only to find them locked in place with Kurt’s own. He knows it’s somewhat childish, but he begins to kick lightly at Kurt’s legs under the table. Kurt jumps in his seat slightly at the first kick of Blaine’s toe making contact with his calf. He glares and lifts his legs petulantly. Blaine merely smiles back and directs a kick to the boy’s thigh. Kurt’s eyebrows are furrowed, and Blaine can practically see him fighting to not stick his tongue out. Blaine raises a brow, and he laughs when Kurt gives into the urge. Everything seems so simple and perfect and light that Blaine doesn’t blame himself for thinking the words. He knows he probably looks like an idiot, sitting there staring at Kurt. He probably has heart-eyes and a dopey smile, and he knows for sure that he’s got a few drops nonfat mocha at the corners of his lips, but he just knows he’s so in love, and he knows that the words want to come out, and he’s finally gathered the courage to say them, so his lips part, and his voice starts, and then: “Medium drip for Blaine!” He feels mostly annoyance flare up, but some small part of him is relieved. There would have to be an after, an after for when he says those three words, an after for when and how Kurt responds, and Blaine hadn’t thought about that until it was almost too late. So part of him is relieved that he didn’t get the chance to speak. He shoots an apologetic smile at his boyfriend before getting up to retrieve his coffee, and when he gets back, he acts like nothing big was about to happen before he got his drink, and he hopes Kurt doesn’t bring it up. So he pastes on a smile, and their day carries on as normal, and the moment is forgotten. 

4\. They’re lying on Kurt’s bed, and the lights are off. It’s just them, the steady rise and fall of their chests as Amy Winehouse plays quietly from Kurt’s laptop where it sits on the floor. Kurt’s head is resting over Blaine’s heart; Blaine knows he can hear the steady thump-thump-thump of it, and a smile ghosts his lips as he trails shaky fingers down Kurt’s side. They haven’t even done anything that counts on the scale of “sexual intimacy,” yet Blaine feels like this is the most intimate they can be: together, curled up in each other on Kurt’s bed, slowly becoming one, intertwined. He wants to stay there, locked in Kurt’s embrace forever, but he knows that Burt and Carole will return tomorrow morning, and Finn will break down the door when he gets back from Rachel’s, so he takes what he can from this small fragment in time. He holds Kurt that much closer, he kisses him that much sweeter, and he feels that tug in his gut. He feels that tug that he feels whenever those words start to form in his chest, in his throat, in his mouth. He looks down at Kurt, and the tug becomes stronger. He smiles softly and presses a kiss to the boy’s hair. Lying there in the dark fuels him with the courage to speak: “I love you, Kurt.” He grins, fear causing his heart to jump up and down and around as he eagerly awaits Kurt’s response. He realises soon after, however, that Kurt hasn’t even heard him. He’s asleep. Blaine feels his jumping heart jump too far and begin to plummet. He sighs because at least now he knows he’s ready, but he doesn’t know how ready Kurt is to hear the words. He ignores the tears welling up in his eyes and instead gets comfortable once more in Kurt’s pillows, attempting to sleep. When he wakes, it’s to Kurt looking absolutely angelic, and an awkward Finn. He smiles at Kurt and laughs when Finn asks how they put their clothes on so fast before pushing down a bout of nausea over what could’ve transpired had Kurt not fallen asleep. 

+1. They’re in Lima Bean again. Kurt is telling Blaine about New York and Nationals, and maybe one could classify it all as rambling, but not Blaine. Never Blaine. He’s sure he’s got the same expression on his face as he did the last time they were there. But he can’t help it, he’s just so in love. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen it,” Kurt’s saying, his eyes wide and bright. “So we all looked at the top ten list for Showcase, and we all … just went numb.” Blaine inclines his head slightly, the corners of his lips curling up. “And then,” oh, there are those hand movements, “Jessie kept going on and on about how Rachel and Finn’s kiss is what cost us Nationals.”

Blaine nods and makes an understanding gesture towards Kurt as he interrupts: “While I understand passion,” he smiles softly, “I do think it was unprofessional, but sorry. Keep going.” He places his hand back under his chin, watching Kurt lean forward conspiratorially.

“Okay, then when we get back to the hotel,” Kurt’s got a look on his face that Blaine can’t quite name, “Santana loses it.” He laughs, and Blaine feels the tug in his gut, the butterflies in his stomach, the heart in his throat, as he falls deeper in love with the boy, the boy who’s jokingly imitating Santana’s Spanish the best he can before carrying on: “I mean,” there’s a lot of leaning forward and back, and a couple of head nods coming from Kurt, and Blaine just smiles some more as he listens, “and the plane ride was silent. Like, no one said a word. We all just sat there with our faces buried in our complimentary copies of Skymall.” The teen chuckles softly.

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Blaine understands why he himself is smiling, but not Kurt. Kurt’s had this smile on his face the entire time, and he’s been gripping Blaine’s hand tightly. It doesn’t make sense because Kurt was so excited about Nationals. Not that Blaine was annoyed about it. No, he was glad that the loss wasn’t too taxing on Kurt, it was just odd. “You don’t seem sad at all.”

Kurt shrugs, shaking his head, smile still on his lips. “Well, it was … still amazing. I mean, I flew on a plane for the first time in my life, I had breakfast at Tiffany’s, I sang on a Broadway stage….”

That trailing off, that wistful smile. That’s when Blaine knows. There aren’t flashing lights and sirens, there aren’t fireworks and sparklers, there’s just Kurt and Blaine. And he knows so much that he throws the nervousness that had been steadily rising in his chest and just says it: “I love you.” And it was easier than he thought. The words float in the space between them as he watches Kurt process the words. 

There’s a pause before Kurt smiles softly. “I love you, too.” And Blaine wants to cry, but he doesn’t and instead just smiles and keeps his gaze locked there, on the love of his life. That’s when Kurt breaks the peaceful silence with: “You know, when you stop and think about it, Kurt Hummel’s had a pretty good year.” And Blaine attempts to smile from behind his cup of coffee before Kurt’s looking behind him and cheerfully saying, “Oh, look who’s here!” And maybe Blaine should be annoyed because the moment is over, but if Kurt’s response meant anything, he knows there will be plenty more shared in the future.


End file.
